The Old Tree And The New Plant Poem by MBJ Pancras

The tree planted as a sapling hath grown old;
With new hopes with full of energy and smiles,
Sweetened with new promises and manifestos,
Watered with medicinal liquids day by day,
Looking for steady growth to see ripe fruits,
But met with mammoth calamity to see rot.
All days are the same, and no special day is fixed,
And that's the plan of The Almighty to run like water;
It's man that maketh differences for his revelry,
Little space is given for HIS Glory, but much for man.

Time is passing by; Circus tunes are played on,
Dances with glamorous steps coupled with drunken souls,
Driven by desires and pleasures the clock is ticking,
The world bent in provisions of flesh typically designed,
Creeping fear, drowning souls, chaotic politics,
Bursting of crackers, tweeting electronic wishes,
Being the stuff of unseemly substances on procession,
The twain hands of the clock seem to stay together,
And the whole world seems to travel thro' the bridge -
The bridge of the old chasm and the new horizon.

The clock strikes twelve and it's the world's time;
Time passeth as it passed till then, and there's no change.
It's HIS Design that plants should grow as trees;
Yet, HIS Wish is that man ought to grow in HIS Way.
New saplings shall grow as tender plants with fresh water,
Man's thoughts ought to be holy walking with HIS Word,
‘To be or not to be' is man's device to run his way,
But ‘Ought to be' is the Lord's WILL towards Eternity.
Let's welcome the birth of new day from the past,
And every day is a new day to walk in HIS World.